


Lies Will Not Define Us

by agentx13 (rebelle_elle)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3534740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelle_elle/pseuds/agentx13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Sam team up with Sharon occasionally while they hunt for Hydra, but Steve still hasn't entirely forgiven her for lying to him while undercover. After she spills another secret, he finds he has a link to the past that he never thought he'd find. But that doesn't mean he's ever going to like her...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies Will Not Define Us

Steve wished Sam and Sharon had chosen some other venue. The bar was so loud they had to shout to be heard. He also wished that Sam hadn’t flaked out, going to bed early and leaving him with a glass-eyed Sharon. He understood that she’d been on assignment when she’d lied to him for so long, but it still made something in the pit of his stomach seethe. Every time she did something to remind him of Kate, he thought of how SHIELD had deceived him. How _she_ had deceived him.

Each time, he felt like a fool all over again. What sort of nurse would wash her infectious scrubs in the building’s laundry room? Why had he never noticed how often she seemed to go in or out of her apartment right as he got home? How had he never noticed that all the times their mail had gotten mixed up, it had been a ruse?

Her curls fell over her shoulder as she leaned toward him. “Can’t have the decency to pretend to get drunk, huh?”

He glanced over at her, noting the looseness of her muscles and knowing she’d be no good in a fight right now. Despite with her SHIELD training, he doubted she’d even be able to stand on her own. He caught the bartender’s eye and gestured for the bill. “Alcohol doesn’t really work on me.”

She made a face. “Maybe you just haven’t drunk enough fast enough.”

“To stay drunk more than a minute? Too expensive.”

“I’ll treat you sometime. My treat.” She grinned, but the cheerfulness disappeared when he didn’t grin back. “For God’s sake, Steve. I already appelp-” Her brow wrinkled. “Apple-o-.” After a moment, she spoke again, enunciating with care. “Apologized. I apologized. I was undercover. I was just trying to keep you safe. You’re Captain Freaking America.” She shook her head, then blinked dumbly at the mirrored wall behind the bar as she swayed on her seat.

He accepted the bill and quickly calculated the tip. He fished the billfold from his pocket. “I already said I understood.”

“But you don’t forgive me because I lied to you, and God forbid someone should fucking lie to you, Mr. Regular SHIELD agent.”

He pressed his lips together. He understood what she was getting at, and he didn’t like it. When he had lied, it had been different. “It wasn’t like I could tell you who I was.” He stood and waited for her to move. He’d probably have to carry her to the damn room. He hated the thought of taking care of her enough as it was; the thought of doing it while they had this conversation endeared her to him even less. And he already wasn’t feeling terribly charitable toward her.

“Fucking hypocrite.” She took another sip of her drink. She didn’t budge from the stool. “Aunt Peggy said you were stubborn. Never said you were such an asshole about it.”

“Who’s your aunt P-” He froze. “Did you just say Peggy? As in Peggy Carter is your aunt?”

Sharon swallowed thickly. Seconds stretched while she seemed to search for another lie. But this was the woman who’d tossed her cell phone into a basket of supposedly-infected clothing. Whatever lie she came up with, Steve doubted it would be good.

“Mmm... Goddamnit.” She pushed her drink away. “Think I’ve had enough.” She twisted on her stool and appraised him as much as the alcohol haze would allow. “You can go. I can crawl on my own.”

He gaped at her. “Is that why you wouldn’t tell us your last name? Because of her?”

She tried to roll her eyes, but her head and shoulders moved with the gesture as well. She tilted off balance, then went still again. This time, some detached part of him appreciated that she looked uncomfortable. “Yeah? No. Because-” She lifted her hands and swayed for a moment. “SHIELD- She founded it, right? With Stark. And I- I wanted to be a SHIELD agent my whole life because of her. But people always treat me diff- diff-” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Fuck. Different. Diff. Er. Rent. When they know. And you- I didn’t want you to do that. I didn’t want you comparing me to her. Because I love her, right? Like, more than anybody. Maybe even more than you. Not the same way, obviously. But still. Like, she’s not just my favor...”

The words seemed to throw her for a loop again, and she reached for her glass, only to find it empty. She frowned at it. “She raised me. More than my parents. They hated her ‘cause I loved her so much. So when Fury told me about you an’ asked me to keep an eye on you, it wasn’t just ‘cause I was a agent. _An_ agent. It was because of Aunt Peggy.” She shrugged. “I had to protect her best guy, you know? I mean, I would have done it anyway. You’re horrible like that.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Horrible like that?” he echoed.

“Yeah, you know.” She waved a hand at him. “Really good body. Not an asshole. Maybe actually a genuinely good guy. If things had been different, I would have done the laundry-coffee thing. But Peggy loves you and you love her, and I love her, too. So no. I couldn’t. And, you know. The whole undercover thing. Like, lying to you about my job is one thing. That’s my job. But, like, leading you on like that? I didn’t want to do that. I couldn’t.” She shrugged. “I liked you.”

His expression hadn’t changed since she’d called him horrible. “You liked me.”

She groaned. “Yes. Okay?” She lapsed into silence, her shoulders hunching morosely. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. And I loved SHIELD. And y- And Peggy.”

He studied her carefully for several seconds. She kept her eyes on the ground. At length, he held out a hand and helped her off the stool. “Tell me about her. All I have are archival footage and-” He, too, lapsed into silence as he helped her out of the bar.

“And,” she said. Her tone made it sound like she understood completely. “It’s like missing her when she’s right in front of you, right?” Without pause, she continued. “But it’s okay. She told me loads of stories. And Dum Dum told me all the ones she didn’t want me to know. And Gabe told me the true versions of those ones. And Monty told me the really... creative ones. And Morita told me all the ones no one else would tell, because Jim knows that bad stuff’s gotta be remembered, too.”

“You knew the Commandos, too?” She was walking with insufferable slowness, working out where to place each foot with care. He found that he didn’t mind. He imagined she knew many stories he didn’t, and he longed to have some piece of his friends again. He held an arm around her without touching in case she misjudged.

“Family reunions. Big ones. The things I could tell you, Eagle.” She chortled at a private joke only she seemed to know, and then she started talking.

The few stories she told him were disjointed and slurred, but he could hear the shadows of Dum Dum’s familiar cadence in the story about the first 084 SHIELD had ever intercepted, though she couldn’t tell him what the object was. He could hear Monty’s enthusiasm as she told the story of blowing up a munitions factory in Belarus and Gabe’s wry humor in the tale of the Commandos going undercover and trying to convince Dum Dum to disguise himself as a woman.

He was still hungry for more as he helped her to bed, but he could also see that she was in no condition to continue. She went quiet as soon as her head touched the pillow, and Steve pulled up the blanket before checking that all the windows and doors were secure.

After making sure no one was in the bathroom, he heard her call.

“Steve? I really never did want to lie to you. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

Again, he felt his insides twist. It wasn’t as bad as it had been earlier in the evening, but it was still enough for him to bite the inside of his lip. He set a glass of water beside her bedside. “Get some sleep, Sharon.”

***

Sharon wasn’t a morning person under the best of circumstances, but the morning after was particularly wretched. Sam was muted as well, yawning as he downed coffee after coffee. The two of them shared a plate of bacon and greasy eggs while Steve enjoyed being the only alert one at the table.

It was a good thing he didn’t need much sleep. The thoughts of the Commandos, of all he had missed, of the life he could have had with Peggy, all of those and more plagued him well into the night. But the super serum meant he didn’t need as much sleep to get by, and he’d woken feeling somewhat refreshed, and certainly ready to hear more stories.

On their way to the Hydra cell, in between discussions of the plan and possible contingency plans, Sharon told him Morita’s story about the mission in Italy where the Commandos’ plan had gone wrong and Peggy had taken over the mission and kept everyone alive.

That night, Sharon left to rejoin the CIA, and Steve played the stories over and over in his head, committing them to memory in all their drunkenly-slurred and hungover-croaked glory.

***

Steve wasn’t sure when it started to feel right, fighting alongside Sharon and Sam as they exchanged barbs and witticisms over the comm. One day, though, as Sam rained hell on the Hydra base from above and Sharon attacked from darkened doorways, it occured to him that they made a good team.

Natasha joined them once, sneaking into their hotel room with bags of greasy food, and Sam regaled her with stories of their recent takedown. Steve and Sharon spent the time eating and rolling their eyes at each other.

“And then that one,” Sam said dramatically, pointing at Sharon, “punched some guy and went, ‘Boom goes the dynamite.’ I’m not kidding.”

Natasha laughed. “She might be dorkier than Steve.”

“Whoa,” Steve and Sharon said in unison.

“I have to defend my crown,” Steve announced.

Sharon gaped at him as if she’d been betrayed. “I hate all of you,” she said. She chucked a fry at Natasha, who caught it and ate it with a smug grin.

Later, when Steve and Natasha were alone, Natasha gave him that same grin. “Told you she was nice. A huge dork.” Her grin turned wicked. “But nice. She doesn’t know Russian, either. It’s fun.”

He rolled his eyes. “You could stay, you know.”

For a moment, Natasha looked wistful, but as with anything that was truly vulnerable about Natasha, it was gone almost before it began. “I still have other things to do.”

He nodded and walked onto the balcony with her. He watched the taillights of her car disappear through the trees and listened as Sharon moved beside him. Without his enhanced hearing, she would have been silent.

“What did she mean, she told you I was nice?”

“She... she was after me to ask you out.”

Sharon laughed uncomfortably. “I’m going to have to kill one of my best friends.”

He glanced at her, curious, but when she didn’t explain, he turned to lean against the railing.

“I’m not my aunt,” she said at last.

“No, you’re not,” he agreed.

Time slipped by, measured by a cacophony and crickets and frogs. Inside, Sam watched a sitcom. The only way it would have been more comfortable was if they’d had lawn chairs to recline in.

“Wait,” Steve muttered. “Did she try to set us up because you said you liked me? Did you like me?” Was that what she’d stopped herself from saying that night at the bar, why she was uncomfortable about Natasha setting them up?

“Hate you all,” she repeated. She kept her tone light, but she disappeared inside with a speed she saved for firefights and sparring. Steve could hear her with Sam as they argued over the last burger.

He stayed on the balcony for a long time.

***

It was almost a year later that Steve got to see Peggy again. Sharon and Maria moved Peggy from safe house to safe house, always trying to stay a step ahead of Hydra. It was the first time Steve would see her since three safe houses ago. For Sharon, pulling double-duty with the CIA, it was five. She sat in the passenger seat and stared out the window; Steve did the same in the back.

Sam had offered to drive, and Steve wasn’t sure he could thank him enough. He was so caught up in how much Peggy would remember that he couldn’t have focused enough on where they were going. The house was deep in the country; most of the roads were dirt. Maria’s directions had come with attachments- pictures of trees or shrubs that served as landmarks and turn signals.

A man far too reminiscent of STRIKE stepped into the road, and Steve instinctively grabbed his shield. But it was just O’Grady, one of Peggy’s bodyguards, and they continued on to the small white farmhouse.

Sam hung back to talk to the other guards and doctors, and Steve followed Sharon to Peggy’s room. She stopped just outside of the doorway so suddenly he almost bumped into her. He glanced at her, but she avoided his gaze. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

“Hello!” she said brightly. “How are you doing today?”

“Fine, thank you,” Peggy said politely. Steve stepped inside and watched as Peggy’s features transformed. “Steve! You came back to visit! I was hoping you would. It’s a lovely room, isn’t it?This is my nurse...” She held a hand out to Sharon and paused, searching for a name.

“Sharon.” Sharon’s voice was tight.

“Of course. Sharon. How could I forget? I have a niece named Sharon, you know. Lovely girl. Terribly energetic, of course, but I’m quite fond of her.” Peggy turned her head back toward Steve. “But enough about me. Tell me about you. I see you on the news, but we both know that the media doesn’t tell the absolute truth.”

Steve watched Sharon as she hugged herself and swallowed. He couldn’t forget what it was like to feel like Peggy couldn’t really see him. The serum meant he’d always remember how a moment could pass and Peggy wouldn’t remember any of their past visits, couldn’t remember five minutes before. It hurt worse than falling into the ice. Sometimes he thought it hurt more than watching Bucky fall, but at least that had only happened once. How had Sharon put it that night at the bar? It was like missing Peggy when she was right in front of them.

“Sure thing, Peg. Anything for my best girl.” He pulled the desk chair closer to her bed. “And I actually brought a guest with me this time. Your niece, Sharon. We met working at SHIELD.” He nodded to Sharon, who stared back without seeming to understand. He eyed her, then the door, then back again.

“Did you really? That’s wonderful. We still talk quite often, you know, when she isn’t being shot at and such.”

“She talks about you a lot,” Steve agreed. “Tells me about stuff I missed out on about you.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Here she is.”

Sharon pushed back her shoulders, forced a bright smile, and took a step forward as if having just come in. “Aunt Peggy! How are you?”

Peggy’s eyes lit up. Part of Steve felt awful for the ruse, for taking advantage of her condition, but he was glad it worked nonetheless. Peggy deserved to see her niece just as much as Sharon deserved to see her aunt. “Sharon! I’m very well, thank you. Look, Steve came to visit, too.”

Sharon sat at the foot of the bed. “I heard. Not everyone gets a visit from Captain America. You must be pretty special, Aunt Peggy.”

“Oh.” Peggy’s tone dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know I am.” She sounded as if she were joking, but Steve and Sharon glanced at each other, both understanding that Peggy was more special than she would likely ever know or accept.

They stayed another half hour, joking and keeping up a steady stream of conversation until Peggy seemed to have a harder time staying awake. They each gave Peggy a kiss on the cheek and let her rest.

Sharon didn’t speak again until they were back at the hotel and she had her things gathered for a shower. “Thanks.” She disappeared into the bathroom before Steve could respond.

***

The bar reminded him of the night Sharon had accidentally revealed who her aunt was. It was loud and dark, and Steve couldn’t bring himself to tell her and Sam how not-modern the modern-style light about their table was.

“Why aren’t you drinking?” Sam demanded.

“Can’t get drunk,” Steve replied amiably. “And drinks are expensive. It’s not worth it.”

Sam and Sharon groaned. “Inflation,” they said together.

“Whatever will inflation ruin for the caveman next?” Sam mused.

“I remember when drinks like this cost a nickel!” Sharon intoned.

Steve grinned. They’d ribbed him enough about his age that they were close to making it an art form. They had nothing on Natasha, but they had something of a routine by that point.

“But I mean _her._ ”

Sam nodded at Sharon.

Steve looked at Sharon and raised an eyebrow.

She waved a hand. “I still remember the last hangover I had. Not in the mood for another. Besides, I’m hoping to get blackmail material out of your drunken ass, Wilson.”

“You,” he said cheerfully, “are not getting _anything_ out of my drunken ass.”

Her eyes slid toward Steve’s. “I didn’t have my recorder on, damn it. That would have made a good ringtone on his phone.”

Sam made a rude noise.

“Damn it, Sam! Wait for me to turn your recorder on!”

An hour later, Steve half-carried, half-dragged Sam up to their room. “Maybe we should have a no-alcohol policy,” he suggested as Sharon pushed open their door and did a check of the room. After almost a year of staying in places he suspected also housed rats, roaches, and bedbugs, he’d finally caved and talked to Pepper about getting a nicer place, if only for a night. She’d rented them a penthouse with four bedrooms for the week and told him to take a vacation. Seeing their rooms, Steve understood once more why everyone loved Pepper.

“Oh, shush. You know he’s cute when he’s drunk.”

He glanced at her, perhaps a little too quickly. “Yeah, but I like my men able to walk on their own.”

“Can walk,” Sam slurred. His eyes were closed, and Steve had wondered several times if he’d passed out while being carried. “See?” Sam’s hand gave a flop. His right foot rolled at the ankle.

“Never have my camera turned on when I need it,” Sharon lamented. She grinned and opened the door to Sam’s room before quickly pulling down the sheets.

“Good job, pal.” Steve set Sam carefully on the bed, then turned him around so his head was on the pillow.

“Nailed it,” Sam murmured in agreement. His eyelids didn’t even flutter as his head rolled to the side.

He helped Sharon take off Sam’s shoes, then tucked the blankets under Sam’s chin. He closed the door behind him and sighed. “He’s going to feel like hell tomorrow.”

She beamed. “I can’t wait. I’m going to charge my phone and try to be ready when he wakes up.”

They fell into silence again. Catching themselves looking at each other too long, Sharon headed to the kitchen. “I’ll have to thank Pepper for this. Maybe I can go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

He followed her to the kitchen, watching as she searched the fridge and cabinets.

“What do you think Sam’s going to want in the morning, other than coffee, bacon, and silence?”

He didn’t answer, and when she turned to face him, he stepped forward and slid a hand along her neck, pulling her closer. He pressed his lips to hers and was relieved when she kissed back. Within seconds, he had shoved her against the fridge, her fingers digging into his shoulder as his hands roamed toward her hips.

She turned her face away, and they each gasped for breath. “I’m not my aunt,” she whispered.

“I know,” he murmured back. Sure, she was as stubborn and dedicated as Peggy, but there was no way he’d ever mistake one for the other. He leaned in closer and paused. Maybe she didn’t want this like he did?

And then her lips were against his, her arms tight around his neck. He kissed back fervently. He froze when he felt more of him press against her than he’d intended.

Her breath was hot against his lips. Oh, God. She’d noticed. This was worse than every time he’d talked to a girl in Brooklyn. He hadn’t meant to move this fast.

“Bedroom,” she whispered, and Steve felt dizzy with relief. He wrapped his arms around her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her again and stumbled to his bedroom. “Shit!” she exclaimed, her voice quiet. “Not that one! We’ll wake up Sam.”

He swallowed thickly. That sounded promising, though he didn’t dare say so. He turned on his heel and headed for her room. “I don’t think an earthquake could wake him right now.”

“Oh, let him sleep.” Her lips found his ear lobe, and he cursed quietly as he fumbled to get her door open. He was a damn super soldier, and he couldn’t get her damn door open. She chuckled, and he pressed a harsh kiss to her neck.

He finally got her door open and barely refrained from tossing her on the bed. Every nerve he had hummed with anticipation. She pulled off her shirt, and he groaned softly. He didn’t realize he’d used his speed to get to her until she squeaked underneath him, and his concern was cut off by her laugh.

His worry that they’d been taking things too fast faded as soon as her fingers fumbled at his clothes and he realized she wanted this as much as he did. Wet fingers and ragged breaths later, he was inside her. Her back arched, and he kissed the tops of her breasts before kneading them with his hands.

Her skin was hot against his. He ran his hands over as much of it as he could and found the grooves of past scars, felt her muscles twitch as he switched angles, felt her tense and relax as he set a steady, unforgiving pace.

He was louder than she was, but when he went down on her, she had to gag herself with her forearm. Just for that, he kept going until her legs spasmed around his ears.

During one of their breaks, they lay side by side and panted as they got their breath back. “Man,” she murmured. “You really suck at this.”

He chuckled and gave her a soft kiss. “Points for effort? Maybe I should try again.”

She laughed and rolled on top of him. “No way. You were so bad I have to get revenge.” She kissed her way downward, and within minutes, Steve knew he liked her kind of revenge. He stopped her before she could finish him off and gave her a hard kiss. “Why, Mr. Rogers,” she teased when he broke the kiss, “this neighborhood of yours sure is nice.”

He pulled her leg over his hip. “I’m thinking of moving into someone else’s neighborhood, actually.”

“You should be careful,” she warned, mock-serious. “I hear mortgage rates can be tough.”

He made a face. “I... have no idea what to do with that.”

She laughed against his shoulder. “I don’t either. I think I just stole your dork crown.” Her breath was hot against his ear. “But at least we know what to do with this.” She reached between them and gave him a squeeze.

He moaned and kissed her neck. “Nice segue.” He paused for another kiss and added affectionately, “Dork.”

She scoffed, though it ended with a gasp when he shifted his hips. “Just for that,” she breathed, “you’re going to have to fuck me harder.”

He smiled against her skin. “I can do that, sure.”

When they parted for the final time that night, Steve rolled to the side, gasping for air. Even with the serum, he was exhausted and sore, and he smugly thought that Sam wasn’t the only one who’d have trouble getting up in the morning. After a moment, he felt her fingers on his wrist and moved his hand to intertwine their fingers. As tired as he was, he was acutely aware of her fingers relaxing as she fell asleep, and he carefully pulled the sheets over them both before he, too, closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Written from [a prompt](http://archiveofourown.org/comments/19557158) left on another fic. I enjoyed writing it! Hope it's okay!


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